


Can't Hurry Love

by writeyourownlifestory



Series: Adventures in Being Soulmates [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-12-16 13:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21036659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyourownlifestory/pseuds/writeyourownlifestory
Summary: In a world where a simple implant will count down the days, the hours, the seconds until you meet your soulmate, two lives are changed forever. Eddie Kaspbrak was happily engaged only to find out that she wasn't who he was supposed to be with. Richie Tozier was blissfully single only to be pushed into a situation he didn't ask for. Wacky antics ensue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first multichapter Reddie story! Hope you enjoy it. I always worry people don't give "T" a chance, but I am sorry to say there is no smut in this. Just grown men crushing on one another.

_ **You can't hurry love** _   
_ **No, you'll just have to wait** _   
_ **Just trust in a good time** _   
_ **No matter how long it takes** _

Eddie believed in soulmates. He truly did. 

He loved the concept of them. Being connected to someone in a way that no other person could compete with. It was strange and different and unreal. It seemed like something out of a fairytale. Eddie never believed in fairy tales before. His mother didn’t like books like that. Full of mumbo-jumbo like dragons and warlocks. She didn’t read him bedtime stories. And if she did, then they would be from her own mind; little tales about Prince Edward and Queen Sonia who lived happily together in their faraway kingdom. 

Still, he found the idea of it to be neat. So when the TIMER was introduced, he was intrigued. 

There were commercials and slogans. Billboards and posters and ads everywhere the eye could see. People all over the world were coming together and finding out the truth. It was on the TODAY SHOW and everything. People all over the internet were losing their minds over it. 

People who had been so lost, so lonely were now finding their perfect match. The other piece of their soul. The other half that made them whole. 

Eddie was jealous, but he wasn’t going to jump right into getting one. 

For starters, they cost a ton of money. Like a fuck ton of money. Eddie got a job right out of college, but that didn’t mean he was making bank right then and there. No, it took him a while to get to where he was today and that was still pretty bottom level. 

He started saving up, putting money aside for things he wanted to do. Go on vacation, buy a new car, maybe one of those fancy watches that all the bigheads in the office wore. 

And yeah, maybe he’d even invest in a TIMER. 

That continued to get pushed to the back burner, however. Real-life had to come first. Even with their health insurance, his mother’s medical bills were a lot to take on. She went to the hospital for every little thing. Every mark she saw, every mole she found. It was an appointment here and copay there. 

He had to do it, of course. She was his mom. He couldn’t help her. She brought him into their world and raised him. She turned him into the man he was and even if that wasn’t exactly something he liked to show off all the time, he was still indebted to her. 

So he took care of her, constantly flying back and forth between Maine and New York because she refused to stay in the city with him. It was too loud and too dirty. Eddie refused to come back home because hello — he worked in New York. No work, no money. No money, no bills getting paid. 

It was a hassle, but he refused to say anything in front of her to spare her feelings. She felt terrible enough as it was.

When she eventually did find herself getting sick, like with an actual illness and not something she imagined, Eddie was heartbroken. Sure, now he was on his own and he could focus on himself, but his mother was dead. 

Sonia Kaspbrak wasn’t a perfect mother, but she was the only one Eddie had. He loved her and he would miss her even if she did warp his mind into thinking he was allergic to sixteen different things before he was under the age of fourteen. 

When he left Maine for the final time, Eddie didn’t know what to do. He had never handled himself on his own. He had been single on and off, but none of the relationships lasted long enough for him to ever venture into something deeper. 

His mom distracted him from a lot of stuff, but now that was over with. Eddie was on his own and it was a lot to handle. Little did he know, it wouldn’t last very long. 

His mother’s friend had contacted him after the funeral. It seemed her daughter also lived in the city and didn’t know anybody there. Because Eddie had been so efficient with the funeral and taking care of his mother's needs, the woman hoped Eddie could help the young woman out so she wasn’t so alone. 

Within a week of his mother being dead, Eddie said goodbye to Sonia and hello to Myra. 

She was familiar in a way he couldn’t put his finger on. Very opinionated but only with things that involved his better interest. She knew the foods that would be good for his complexion and specific diet. 

She looked out for him in the best ways so when they started dating, it felt only natural. 

They took it slow, not wanting to jump into anything. Relationships were scary and while none of the other people he had been involved with lasted very long, Eddie always liked to think of himself as a good partner. He listened when he had to and gave advice when they needed it. 

Myra never needed advice. She always knew what she wanted, when she wanted it, and how she was going to get it. 

They were together for a year when she decided they should get married. She told him over dinner, explaining it as if it was a business opportunity. They weren’t getting older, having both just turned thirty. They both had careers they liked. They just started living together because she hated his apartment and her place was closer to her work at the museum. It just seemed like the right step to take

She wasn’t keen on children or animals, which was a bummer because Eddie was, but he thought perhaps he could change her mind. Probably not, since Myra’s mind never changed, but he had hope. 

So a week later, asking going to buy the ring she had chosen for her, he took her out to dinner and asked her to marry him. And she accepted, obviously. 

A few days later, she came home with a TIMER attached to her wrist. 

It had been a birthday gift from her mother. She wanted her Myra to find her happily ever and what better way to do that than by helping her find her true love? Her soulmate. 

The issue was, Eddie didn’t have one. 

And the thing with the TIMER was that each person had to have one for it to prove who belonged with you. You could be married to your soulmate or they could be the person next door, but unless you each had one, it was nothing more than a blank slate against your wrist. 

So that was why less than a week later, Eddie was sitting down in a TIMER facility, preparing to have a wrist implant placed on. Myra went on and on about how they were meant to be together and that if he got the implant then they’d have proof. 

Eddie didn’t understand why she cared. If she believed they were meant to be, then they were meant to be. He wasn’t going to argue with her. They were already engaged. She already had plans for their wedding. Why take the next step? 

But at the same time, Eddie found himself intrigued. 

Maybe it was the romantic in him that had him wanting to do it. The idea of locking eyes with the person you’re meant to be with and the count down going to zero. The ultimate realization that you’ll never be lonely again. 

It was tempting. 

So he cleared out his savings for this. He had been working to get another car since Myra thought he was too sleek and wasn’t safe enough on the road but that could wait a little while longer. 

Inside the waiting room, there had been success stories posted along the walls and bubbly romance music playing over the radio. It felt like something out of a Hallmark movie specifically made for Valentine’s Day. 

Once inside the room, the employee went over everything, trying to explain it to Eddie the best way he could. There was no real way to explain how it works; it just does. The power of the universe and all that shit. It was just easier not to question it so much. 

Once a TIMER is on, it will automatically begin the countdown or will remain blank until his partner's TIMER is activated. Once the countdown is complete, the implant will read the name of his soulmate. 

You can have the implant removed, but once it’s gone, there are no replacements. 

Once it’s done, it’s done. No going back. 

Myra was bubbling with excitement beside him. In the year they had been together, Eddie had never seen her like this. Smiling and being sweet. She was still fussing and ordering the employees around, but that was just typical Myra. 

The employee counted down carefully and warned him that it would feel like a pinch. 

It felt like a nail was going through his wrist. Eddie had never been good with pain, mostly due to the fact that his mother worried about every little thing. He once scraped his knee and she feared he had gotten tetanus. Even to this day he had nightmares about breaking his arm. Not due to how he broke it or the pain that came from it, but his mother's reaction. 

The screaming and yelling and coddling. It haunted him to this day.

When the implant was in, the employee pulled it back, imitating connection. 

It wasn’t a blank slate. 

Nor was there a buzzer going off revealing that he had met the one he was meant to be with.

Instead, it was bright and blue and was counting down the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days. 

Days. 

He would meet his soulmate in just a few days. 

Three days. Six hours. Fort-three minutes. Twelve seconds. Just to be exact.

“Oh my god.” Was all Eddie could say. 

He turned his head then, realizing what had just happened. Myra’s own wrist was still blank. Even after their eyes connected (the employee said it will stop counting once your eyes lock), nothing changed. 

Eddie’s TIMER continued to count down, all while Myra’s did absolutely nothing. 

And it was at this moment Eddie realized nothing was ever going to be the same again. 


	2. Chapter 2

Richie didn’t believe in soulmates. 

The very idea of them was so fucking stupid, it was almost _laughable_. 

Being stuck with one person for the rest of your boring life? _Ungodly torture_. 

He partly believed this because on one hand, who would want to have sex with the same person for all eternity? The idea of it just sent a shiver down his spine. Same face, same lips. Ugh. Richie liked his options. He liked knowing that he could find something pretty to play within any city he was in without having to be tied down to something back home. 

On the other hand, Richie also knew he was a human fucking dumpster-fire, so for some poor soul to be stuck with him until the day one of them died just seemed like a punishment nobody deserved to deal with.

When the whole TIMER thing came about, he was against it one hundred percent. People called him a dick because of it. He vocalized his opinion anywhere he could. On the radio. On interviews. Podcast. Any place someone wanted him and the topic was brought up, Richie put his two sense in because he was a very open and easy-going person. He wasn’t going to just sit back and let people walk all over, preaching this new way of connecting the universe and science and _blahblahblah_! 

People didn’t like him because of that, but Richie didn’t really care because he was used to people not liking him. He could handle that. So long as his ticket sales continued to soar and his scripts were still being marketed, the fucking galaxy could hate him for all he cared. 

Besides, nobody could hate Richie Tozier more than he hated himself anyway. 

All those fucking commercials and the god damn jingle. It made him want to bash his head in. It was like living in a fantasy world and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at it. Seriously, who the fuck needed to know what type of shit? Can’t you just, oh he didn’t know, trust your fucking gut and your heart? Who the fuck needed the universe to help them with their fucking love life? 

He didn’t talk about TIMERS much in his standup. Only once did he mentioned it in a special. It just so happens to be his most popular one to date, but that was beside the point. 

He didn’t go on a rant. Wasn’t there for an angry tangent. Just honest commentary about the whole ordeal. 

The idea that you’re meant to be with one person just fucks with your head. He had friends who had been married and got their TIMER and when the numbers didn’t blink and the buzzer didn’t go off, they wound up getting divorced. 

The people had a fucking kid together. A fucking marriage was ruined because of the idea that you’re just supposed to be with someone because you’re supposed to be with them.

Sure, now a kid gets two fucking birthdays and who fucking knows, maybe the people are happier now that they’re with their soulmate, but the heartache and pain could have been avoided if they hadn’t gone so far as to try to prove that they were meant to be. 

If you’re meant to be with someone, you just know it. You shouldn’t have to rely on the fucking universe to tell you that. 

People agreed with him. Others called him a lonely loser. The creator of the TIMER implant wasn’t a fan, but Richie didn’t need him to be. They both made money off doing the same thing. Selling pretty stories. The difference was, Richie’s were real and had an impact and all the implant did was cause more trouble than its worth. 

Which was why when Richie woke up one morning to the sound a clock turning on and this sudden blue light in his face, he was very, very confused. 

The thing was, Richie didn’t go out and get a TIMER installed on his wrist without anybody knowing. He didn’t do it in hiding so he could hopefully find his other half. Truth was, Richie had no fucking clue how the implant got onto his arm. 

He tried to pull it off, thinking it was a prank, but he found it stuck. It was connected to him. He tried to use a knife to pop it off him, but cut himself instead. The thing was locked in. 

He watched as the hours counted down, indicating that in about two to three days, he would meet the person he was meant to be with. 

And he was fucking livid. 

He went around trying to figure out what the actual hell was going on. He had no memory of getting the implant or even anything from the night before. He knew earlier that evening he had gone to a wrap party for his latest career move. Being a comedian was hot right now, but he knew could do better.

He wrote scripts that were being picked up by major studios, but that wasn’t enough. Richie was hungry for more contact. He had a deal with Netflix after his last stand up special was such a hit. It wasn’t anything new or spectacular. There were already shows out there that featured comedians getting coffee or chatting in a car. Basically same fucking content, but with Richie as the lead. 

He worked with all different people. Other celebrities that he vibes well enough with. Regular people who did things he never imagined doing. It was partially an interview show with them just fucking around and him cracking jokes that made people laugh until their stomach hurt. 

He didn’t know if it would do well, but he had a fucking blast doing it.

And he had an even bigger blast partying afterward. So much so that he decided to get blackout drunk. 

He eventually spoke to his agent and publicist, though they weren’t much help. Finally, it came down to his best buddy Bill to weigh him in on what actually happened. 

They had gone bar hopping and somehow ended up in a place that was dirty and dingy and absolutely fantastic. There were loud music and darts. Pretty girls tried to flirt with him though he was too busy competing against anybody who would give him the time of day. Richie was a competitive son of a bitch and despite being blind as all fuck, was damn good at darts. 

He beat out everybody except one person who decided to up the ante a bit. Rather than offering money or anything like that, he challenged Richie to get a TIMER implanted onto himself. 

It just so happened the guy was a TIMER employee and offered to do it himself if he won the bet. If Richie won, the guy had to go streaking because he was fucking creative and drunk, which meant he didn’t mind seeing some ass. 

In the end, Richie was too fucking drunk to even hit the board, let alone the fucking bullseye. 

“You were pretty fucking proud of the fact that it was blank,” Bill explained, recalling how Richie fucking raved and whooped at the idea of himself not having a soulmate. “It was like being alone was something you were happy about.” 

He gestured to Richie’s wrist then, which was glowing as the numbers continued to count down, down, down. 

“Guess you won’t be alone after all.” Bill ventured, an eager smile on his lips. 

The very idea of Bill being happy for him made Richie sick to his stomach. “Fuck that.” 

Richie was going to have it taken care of. Those numbers didn’t mean shit to him. He wasn’t meant to be someone's another half. Their perfect piece. There was no “R+BLANK” in this situation. Richie wasn’t the romantic type. He wasn’t going to go down to Kissing Bridge and carve his name into it like all the other fucking saps that grew up with literally realistic expectations that he did.

Richie was certain he’d rather cut off his arm than allow anyone around him to see that he — the fucking original TIMER denier — was currently sporting an implant. 

He did his research and found that they could, in fact, be removed and raised the faux heavens above that once they were removed, you couldn’t reattach them or get replacements. It was a one time deal and he was fucking thrilled over that. 

He stomped down to the office as soon as they opened three days later, standing in line behind all the others waiting to have fate placed back into their hands. 

He read over the chart, ready to sign the weaver until he saw just how much it cost to have it removed. 

Now, he made a good living. There was no fucking denying that. He wasn’t going from city to city as much because he didn’t need to. He had two scripts purchased by Paramount. Netflix had his number on speed dial. Richie Tozier wasn’t hurting for money. 

But still. Paying fifty fucking grand to have it removed was a fucking travesty. 

“You realize the people who come here are fucking desperate, right?” He demanded from the woman at the desk. “Nobody is here because they want to be. They’re here because they need to be because your fucking implant messed with their lives and with their heads, and all they want to do is go back into normal society and not have a tiny little Apple product dictate their life.” 

“Sir, we understand that this a unique situation and most people who come here are in hopes of finding a bit of peace of mind.”

“_Peace of mind_?!” Richie practically screamed. “Lady, they don’t want peace of mine! They want to be free of this fucking prison sentence you assholes trapped them in! And look — Karen. Can I call you Karen?” Richie checked and double-checked her name tag. “You seem like a lovely gal. And maybe you believe in this romantic garbage or maybe you’re just doing your job. Please be aware that my anger has nothing to do with you but rather the business as a whole.” 

“You’re kind to specify Mr. Tozier, but the price of removal is firm. You can speak to the higher-ups if you wish, but there is nothing that can be done here.” 

“I can’t fucking walk out of here with this fucking bomb on my arm!” Richie snapped at her, groaning as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

That’s when it happened. When he heard the voice. From the corner of the small waiting room, a voice shouted for him to shut the fuck up. 

Richie reacted automatically, throwing the same phrase right back to him. 

“Nothing can be done asshole! So either pay the bill like the rest of us or fucking go home.” 

“Hey, buddy, why don’t you just go fuck yourself?” Richie asked, turning from the desk to face the guy who had the balls to call him out. 

“Why don’t _you_ go fuck _yourself_, dickwad?” 

And then suddenly it was over. He locked eyes with the guy across the way. A shorter fella with worry lines along his cheeks, dark hair, and a neat polo.

His left arm went numb and for a short moment, he thought he was having a heart attack. But then surges ran through his wrist, leaving his fingers tingling. The TIMER implant was flashing red and blue, indicating that the countdown was complete. 

Richie looked up from his wrist and across the way to the other guy, whose wrist was doing the exact same. 

They locked eyes again and Richie realized his life had just gotten a lot more complicated. 


	3. Chapter 3

This didn’t go as Eddie had planned. 

Certainly didn’t go how Myra planned either. 

Eddie knew what she wanted, what she hoped for, what she dreamed of. Their TIMERS would go off the moment their eyes locked and one the day of their wedding they would walk hand in hand down the aisle with each other's names sealed across their wrist. 

It was a beautiful thought. A lovely fantasy. 

But that’s all it was and all it would be. 

Reality came crashing down and Eddie spent his afternoon chasing after his fiancé, trying to convince her that the TIMER counting down didn’t mean a thing to him. 

It did. Of course, it did. It meant the world to him. Not only was his TIMER going down, but it meant that he had a soulmate. He had someone out there waiting for him. 

But he was still engaged to Myra and he wasn’t going to leave her just because his clock was ticking down. In retrospect, they should have just parted ways. Eventually, she would find the person she was meant to be with and they’d be happy. Someone who accepted all her little quirks just like Eddie did. Someone who made her feel loved and appreciated just like she wanted Eddie too. 

He tried to bring that up but it just had her screaming over and more. They went back and forth between fighting, her telling him to go and never come back to her begging for him to stay by her side and not leave her alone. 

Eddie was getting genuine whiplash. Eventually, he just told her to tell him what to do. If she wanted him gone, then he’d go. If she wanted him to stay, then he would stay. He just needed to know because he couldn’t continue on with the back and forth. 

Eventually, Myra came to the decision that they had to get their TIMERS removed. She didn’t want to look at day after day, have the constant reminder that her future husband was meant to be with somebody else. She didn’t want to marry a man with somebody else name on his arm. 

Eddie didn’t have much of a choice. He proposed. He was ready to marry her and live his life with her. So he had the appointment for them both. 

Myra went first. 

She had asked him to come with her, but the employee said partners weren’t allowed access during the removal processes. After Myra followed them inside, another employee explained it had to do with last-minute hesitations and couples fighting during it. 

Eddie sat alone in the corner, watching as the clock counted down. 

It was almost mesmerizing. It was no longer in days, no longer in hours, but minutes. In just a few minutes he would meet the person he was meant to be with. His other half. All the while Myra was inside the office having hers removed. 

In the back of his mind, Eddie thought that just maybe, Myra’s TIMER would activate late and she’d rush out to the waiting room. They’d lock eyes and everything would go back to the way it was supposed to be. 

And yet part of him, in the darkest part of his mind, didn’t want that.

He wanted there to be more to his life than just his mother and Myra. He wanted something exciting and different. 

He let that thought go however and focused on the countdown, tearing his eyes away from the dwindling numbers only when he found himself distracted by another patient yelling about the prices. He was loud and obnoxious and while Eddie normally didn’t yell outside of traffic he found himself compelled to shut the guy up. 

It was the strangest decision of his life. 

He locked eyes with this man, who was gangly and looked as if he just rolled out of bed and suddenly the world stopped. 

His TIMER stopped too. 

Electricity shot through his arm and his veins felt like a live wire. His fingers tingled in the strangest away and when he looked down, the numbers were no longer there. A name had been replaced instead. 

The name of his soulmate. 

RICHARD. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Was the first thing out of the guy's mouth. 

Not exactly the most romantic moment, if he was being honest. 

Myra walked out then, her smile broad and proud and her wrist clear of her TIMER. 

“Mr. Kaspbrak, you’re next.” The employee called out, looking down at his chart. 

Eddie stalled, his eyes still watching the stranger. No, not a stranger. Soulmate. 

“Go on, Eddie-Bear. It’s your turn.” Eddie opened his mouth to speak, but what was he to say

_Sorry, I don’t wanna do it because it already went off? No point in removing it when I know who it is? _

“Eddie, what are you doing?” Myra snapped, finally catching his attention. 

“Fuck this,” The man muttered, making a run for it. 

Eddie faltered for a moment, gesturing to Myra. “I’ll . . . I’ll meet you at home!” He told her before taking off, chasing after the other man. He was already halfway down the street when he spotted him. “Richard!” He shouted out, pushing passed the people walking by so he could get it him. “Just wait — fucking _wait _a minute!” 

“No can do, señor!” He called after him, moving into the street so he could whistle for a taxi. He turned when Eddie finally reached him and extended an arm as if to keep a distance between them both. “Look, whatever that little thing on your arm told you, just ignore it.” He said. 

This guy was not what Eddie was expecting his soulmate to be like. He was gangly and messy, to say the least. His hair was wild and his clothes weren’t really anything to brag about. Eddie wore what he liked to call ‘middle upper-class chic’ where he wore suits or polo shirts. He always tried to look approachable and nice, while this man seemed to just roll out of bed and start his day.

“How the fuck can you ignore it when it’s connected to fate?”

“It’s not connected to fate. That’s all bullshit, okay? If it wasn’t it wouldn’t have cost fifty fucking grand to put on and remove.” 

“How can you say that when my name is literally on your fucking wrist?” 

The man — Richard — looked down then, his eyes widening behind the thick glasses he wore. He examined his wrist for a moment, reading the name that now rested onto it: EDWARD.

“This was a mistake,” Richard swore, backing away as a taxi pulled up. “Forget about this. Forget about me. Have it removed and move the fuck on.” 

He was gone before Eddie could get a word in. Hopping into the taxi that pulled away from the road. Eddie was left standing on the sidewalk with little to no idea of what to do next. 

Eddie has never had someone run from him before. Granted, he also never chased anyone before. The people he had been involved with prior to Myra were from college, who thought he was cute and he thought were worth his time and effort. Eddie didn’t fall in love when he lost his virginity (top and bottom mind you) but he liked them. He had fond memories of those times but he was ready to move forward and find comfort in being with Myra. 

That was all over now. 

When Eddie arrived home, his things were already packed away inboxes. Myra wasn’t the one to throw things out of the window or onto the street. She was an overly organized woman, more so than Eddie ever could be, and maybe even more so than his own mother. 

Either way, she made it very clear that it was over. 

Myra wasn’t stupid. She knew the TIMER was bound to go off. Knew that Eddie would be compelled to interact with his soulmate. She thought maybe they could beat it but that was nothing more than wishful thinking. 

Eddie tried to argue. I tried to tell her that the name didn’t mean a thing and that he’d still get it removed. They could get married and move on from all of this, but that wasn’t good enough for Myra. 

She was bitter and angry and she had every right to be. Her own TIMER was gone. She lost the chance to ever have confirmation on who her other half was. Eddie could only hope that it was the next person that Myra met and fell for.

Even despite their differences, Eddie wanted her to be happy, even if he couldn’t be the one to do that for her. 

Now he was alone. Pathetically, in fact. 

Truth was, Eddie had never really been alone before. Even when he moved away, he still had his mother calling him and speaking to him. Her influence never failed to reach him. And in the time between her passing and meeting Myra, she was still there; a silent, lingering presence in his life. 

Now Eddie didn’t have his mother. He didn’t have Myra. And he didn’t have a clue on what to do about it. 

After taking his things from his former apartment, making sure not a single thing was left behind, he went and sat in his car. Myra was very precise. She took even the little things Eddie wouldn’t have thought about at the moment and packed them away in the boxes she had prepared. 

Everything Eddie owned in the world was shoved inside his car and he had nowhere to go. He figured he’d stay in his office for a bit. He had a comfortable chair after all. He wouldn’t go to a hotel. The idea of sleeping on a mattress that had been used by so many was horrific to him, even if the sheets had been changed. But who knows when those sheets are even changed anyway. Sure, they make the bed but unless they notice a spot right off the bat, chances are they bother changing a thing. 

The idea made Eddie shiver and he found sleeping in his car was more tempting. 

This was not how Eddie thought his week would go. This was not how he thought his _life_ would go. Now he was left without a fiancé, without a home, and with a soulmate that wanted nothing to do with him. 

God, he needed a drink. 

Eddie was more of a wine type guy, though he missed the taste of beer. It reminded him of college when he was tucked away in his little dorm. He and his roommate would drink share a beer every now and then, hiding it from the RA and then when he was legal, they’d go off to the bars on campus. He was never a lush, but Eddie was known to enjoy himself. He stopped that after meeting Myra as she preferred things to be a tad bit classier. 

She liked wine and Italian restaurants. She liked everything to be dry or bland. He was well aware that beer tasted like piss but it wasn’t about the flavor, it was about the feeling. Getting drunk on wine wasn’t fun, but he wasn’t drinking to get drunk anymore, but rather for the experience. 

Myra insisted that anybody over the age of twenty-six that went out and got drunk was nothing more than a lame excuse for an adult. 

Eddie was thirty, completely single, and currently homeless. There was nothing lamer than that. 

He drove around for a bit, trying to get a feel of the town. He was very keen on sleeping in his car for the time being until he’d be able to find a place to stay. It took him a good while to find his former apartment where he lived on his own and even longer to find a place that Myra liked for them to share. 

Eddie knew he couldn’t afford to be picky and it killed him. 

With all his belongings in the car, he couldn’t very well park anywhere in the world. So he decided to bring it all to his office, taking the long elevator rides up and down, carrying the boxes of his life and stacking them carefully in the corner. 

Myra was kind enough to keep his clothing folded, allowing him to skip the risk of any wrinkles. It was the little things that reminded Eddie that someone cared. 

He kept his car in the lot and decided to walk to a nearby bar. He had never gone before, but his coworkers were known to visit it from time to time. It wasn’t exactly a well-known place, but it wasn’t some dive either. It wasn’t dirty or completely filled with bodies. Eddie didn’t seem like he was going to catch something when he sat down at the bar, though he did push himself off into the corner where he wouldn’t really be noticed by anybody other than the bartender. 

He ordered whatever was on tap, finding himself completely out of the loop on unique and indie alcoholic drinks. He figured at least if he could sit there listening to the shitty music playing overhead and blend in with the other miserable bar urchins and drink himself into a comfortable stooper than that would make the night complete. 

He wasn’t sure how long he was sitting there. He had gone through two pints but wasn’t feeling all that drunk. He wondered if it was just him; if that he had cut off beer so for long that he was suddenly immune to it or something. He didn’t know. He just felt tired and sad and perhaps a bit hungry, though he couldn’t really tell at this point. 

Eddie was thinking about calling it a night but decided to stick it out a little bit longer. He had the following day off and nowhere to go. No one to go home to. He could stay at long as he needed to. He raised his hand to get the attention of the bartender and put in another round but was cut off by another patron jumping onto the stool beside him. 

The guy whistled, slapping his hand down onto the bar to gather the bartender's attention. He rattled off his order, leaning on his elbows as he took a look around. 

It didn’t take much for Eddie to realize who the guy was. 

Same wild hair. Same large glasses. The clothes were different but similar to what he had on earlier that day. Tee shirt with button-down opened side and faded jeans. All were wrinkled and looked like he had worn them the night before. 

The guy caught Eddie staring at him and took about three seconds to make the connection. 

“Oh christ,” he muttered, leaning away then. “Hey yo, tender! Cancel that drink, man!” 

“No, no! Don’t go.” Eddie jumped, putting his hands up in surrender. 

“What did you follow me here or something?” Richard — his name was Richard, Eddie reminded himself. How could he ever forget? It was cemented on his wrist after all. 

“What? No! I’ve been here for hours!” He gestured to the empty glasses across from him. Richard followed his gaze, his expression softening just slightly. “Look, I won’t bother you.” He swore, turning back around, going to face forward, averting his eyes to anywhere around the bar that wasn’t on him. 

After a few seconds, Richard sat back down, sighing deeper as the bartender brought over his drink. He came by a second time, replacing Eddie’s empty glasses with a full one and the two sat in silence. Every now and then Eddie could look over to him and he’d have to swallow down the urge to speak to him. 

There were so many things he wanted to know. What his opinion on global warming was? Who he voted for? Did he even vote at all? What was his favorite color? Go to movie night movie? Did he prefer the lights off or on during sex? Did he prefer name brand or store brand cough medicine? Did he ever read comic books? Did he have a favorite animal? Did he believe in reincarnation?

The list went on and on and on. 

But Eddie kept his mouth shut. The person beside him was supposed to be his one true love. His other half. His soulmate and yet they wanted nothing to do with him. Eddie was used to that specific type of disappointment. He could handle the silence and finish his drink before going back to his car to get some sleep. 

“Why do you still have that?” The voice caught him off guard and when he turned his head he found Richard staring at the TIMER on his wrist. “I thought you were getting it removed.” 

“I could say the same to you.” 

“Got directed,” Richard admitted, taking a sip from his glass. “Besides, I don’t tell enough jokes to afford to get it removed. Better off cutting the whole hand and attaching a hook on the stump.” 

“If you did, you’d finally be out of Masturbators Anonymous.” The bartender commented, giving Richard a knowing look. 

Eddie looked between the two, trying to find the connection though he came up empty. “Are you a comedian?” He asked carefully. 

“Something like that,” Richard answered. “And that joke was from like . . . six years ago. I didn’t even write it.” 

“Still one of the best shows you put on,” The bartender replied. 

“Enough to get a free drink?” He asked, frowning when he was given a shake of the head. “Then watch my new material, huh?” Richard downed his drink, sliding the glass over to gesture for another. “What's your excuse?” He asked, turning his head to look to Eddie. 

“My excuse for what?” 

“For the assassination of Gianni Versace! For not getting the fucking thing removed, dumbass.” 

Eddie shifted in his seat, running his fingers along the TIMER until each letter disappeared and then reappeared. “My . . . well, she was my fiancé but that’s over now. She wanted it removed but when I chased after you, she sort of realized what happened. No point in being with someone that found their soulmate, you know?” 

Richard shook his head, picking up his second drink when it was passed to him. “See. Such bullshit, man. People don’t belong together because the fucking universe says they do. Makes no fucking sense.” 

“I don’t think you’re meant to understand every single thing in the universe.” 

“Then what is the fucking point? Why the fuck are we put on his planet if we can’t understand all of it? All right, I didn’t fucking sign up to be in some mystery. This isn’t an episode of Scooby-Doo, it’s my fucking life!” 

Eddie shifted in his head for a second time, finding himself fidgeting as he turned to face Richard properly. “If this was Scooby-Doo, wouldn’t there be like, a man in a mask and a mystery to solve.” 

“Apparently life is the mystery, Edward.” He replied. 

“How do you . . . right.” Eddie blushed, remembering just then that his name was sealed to the inside of Richard’s wrist. “So you’re Richard?” 

“Legally, though the only people who call me that are my parents and my priest.” He replied with a grumble. 

“So what do you go by?” He wondered if he had a stage name of sorts. He was popular enough for the bartender to know at least. Eddie didn’t pay much attention to the news or anything like that. Myra didn’t like comedy because most of it was vulgar and that just wasn’t her type of fun. No open-mic night dates had ever been done for them.

“Richie.” He answered after a long moment. 

“Richie.” He repeated, the name sounds so sweet on his lips. He wondered if it was due to being partly tipsy or if it just had to do with the soulmate connection or whatever. “I’m Eddie, by the way. Nobody calls me Edward.” 

“Noted.” He replied.

They fell into a comfortable silence then, neither really knowing what to do or say. Eddie still itched to be able to say something, to ask him all the questions that were popping into his head, but he knew it wasn’t the time or place. 

Suddenly Richard — not Richie — was speaking time him again. “Why’d you do it, man?” He asked suddenly. Did you really need clarification on whether or not you were marrying the right person?” 

“It wasn’t my idea,” he confessed. He told him everything. About how Myra thought it would be this big romantic gesture and how she wanted to brag to all her friends that she met her soulmate before the TIMER was even installed. “She can be very demanding. I just wanted to make her happy.”

Eddie spent the entire year and a half with Myra just trying to make her happy. Too many times he had swallowed his pride and forgone his own wants and desires to do what she thought best. That was all over now.

“So she canned you,” Richie said aloud. “Threw you out on the street all because your fucking wristwatch didn’t match up. Even though it was her idea for you to get it in the first place.” All Eddie could do was not along. “Fuck man. Just...fuck.”

They drank at the same time, silently cheering to the misery that was his life. 

“Where are you staying now?” Richie inquired.

“My car.” He confessed. 

“Your _car_?” Richie repeated, his brows rising above his glasses. “You can’t be serious. Dude get a hotel or something.” 

“Do you know how many germs hotels carry? They don’t change their sheets after each stay and don’t even get me started on the whole towel situation.” 

“_Towel situation?_”

“If one person staying in the room doesn’t use a towel, they keep it for the next person. But you can use it without making it look as you used it.”

“It’s a fucking towel! All you’re gonna use it for is to dry off or jerk off!”

“God doesn’t talk about jerking off in a hotel room! My nightmare is a fucking dingy hotel room and a black light.” Eddie visibly shivered at the thought of it. 

Richie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. They were both over halfway done with their things. Eddie was finished after this and all he wanted to do was walk back to the lot and make himself comfortable. It wasn’t ideal but it was all he had for right now.

“Look. I have a pull-out.” Richie mentioned suddenly. “I never actually pull it out because nobody spends the night at my place so it’s mostly used as a couch. But I have clean sheets and a body pillow that’s fluffy as all hell.” 

It took Eddie a solid minute to understand what was being offered to him. He knew Richie was only doing it to be nice. He felt bad for him because of how they needed up. Even with their hands on each other’s wrist, Richie didn’t want him the way he longed to be wanted and that was fine. 

At least if he could avoid sleeping in his car for one night, the blow may not hurt so bad.

“At least until you can figure out what to do outside of sleeping in your car and getting covered in hotel germs.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

Richie lifted his arm then, holding up his left wrist and tapping the glowing TIMER that read Eddie’s name bright and clear. “This little guy says otherwise. Come on. We’ll grab food on the way.” 

Eddie didn’t know what was open this late but his stomach was grumbling and he was more than happy to tag along if it meant filling his gut with something delicious. “All right but, just so there is no confusion if I have anything with cashews I could realistically die,” he told Richie, leaving the money on top of the bar and following him out. 

They ended up at some burger joint that was about to close but they kept the grill on for Richie because he was a regular or something like that. Eddie kept his mouth shut about what kind of oil they used and if they properly cleaned the grill and the other tools. It was too late and his stomach was too empty. Richie paid before Eddie could say a word and they continued on down the street to Richie’s apartment. 

He was surprised that it was within walking distance of his office and even more surprised to find that it wasn’t some cramped little place but a penthouse with a view of the whole city. 

“This is all yours?” He asked, looking over the place. 

“My New York home. I counted back and forth between here and LA. Figured I might as well be comfortable during my stay.” Richie mentioned, going to stand behind the kitchen island and tear into the paper bag that contained their meal. 

Eddie took a look around as they ate. It was a bachelor pad, that much was obvious. Far too spacious, filled with things a grown man shouldn’t need. There was a foosball table in the corner and what looked a funhouse mirror pushed off to the side. The kind that warped your image when you stood in front of it.

“My place in LA has a vintage arcade set up,” Richie states proudly. “My own personal Street Fighter. Nobody has beaten my record yet,”

“What a show-off,” Eddie announced, taking a bite of his burger.

It was greasy and heavy with cheese. He was sure his stomach would have an interesting reaction though he couldn’t find himself to care. He drank pints of cheap beer and was eating a disgustingly delicious burger with his soulmate. It was a pretty damn good night if he could be honest.

They ate in comfortable silence, with Richie crumbling up the paper that held the burger inside of it, basketball shooting it into the trash before wiping his hands on his tee-shirt. He walked off then, going into the hallway. When he returned he handed a rolled-up sheet and the body pillow he promised. He pulled the bed out from the couch and put the sheet onto it, heading back into the hallway to grab a blanket for him. 

“It’s not even the scary kind. Casa de la Tozier is officially open for business.” He announced proudly.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” Eddie mentioned, following him into the sitting room. 

“Eh, count it as my one act of charity this year,” he swore.

Neither knew what to say next. Eddie just stood there watching as Richie scratches the back of his neck and adjusted his glasses.

“Welp. Goodnight! Don’t murder me in my sleep!” Richie announced before talking off down the hall again. 

Eddie stripped down from his jeans and polo, folding them both carefully. He felt odd sleeping in his boxers and wished he had picked up some clothes beforehand. This would have to make do. 

The blanket wasn’t scratchy just as he promised but soft. And as he laid down on the decently sized pull out he wrapped himself around the body pillow. He inhaled the scent, finding that whatever it was smelt sweet and comforting, and he fell to sleep with that scent tickling his nostrils.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL FRIEND FOR MAKING ME THE MOODBOARD! Seriously, I can't make them and I love them more than anything!!!
> 
> Follow her on AOE: AHardLife
> 
> And twitter!: Fictionallifee
> 
> And follow me on tumblr: WriteYourOwnLifeStory
> 
> And twitter!: AmyleeDeacon

Richie wasn’t a bad person. Not in the least. Maybe he wasn’t the type to donate blood every six months or volunteer at a soup kitchen on Thanksgiving, but he was a decent human being. He donated his decent clothing and performed at charity functions. He helped little old ladies across the street and always gave a penny even if he didn’t have to take one. He was a good guy through and through. 

And yet offering his pullout just seemed out of character to himself. 

He didn’t plan on going out that night. Normally he was the type of guy to just bring home a six-pack and sit alone on his couch. He could call up Bill and see if they wanna throw a pity party for him even if things were actually going right for his career. 

Life was good for him, all except one little setback. He thought, maybe if he got a drink at the little bar across the way, it would distract him from the obvious. Not only did he have to go to the one place where he would be recognized, but his apparent soulmate happened to be there as well. 

The tiny part that told him to run was currently kicking himself for even bothering to strike up a conversation with the guy. They weren’t going to be fucking friends. This wasn’t some stupid fucking meet-cute that the studios ask him to write in the scripts that he and Bill come up with together. They were two pathetic losers sitting beside one another at a bar, just trying to make the night a little more bearable. 

Richie tried to tell himself that _no_, this was just him being _nice_. He felt sorry for the guy. He was fucking homeless after all. The woman drags him down to get a TIMER and then dumps his ass when things don’t go her way. This fiancé sounded like a grade A, prime beef _bitch_, but he’d never say that to Eddie’s face. The guy was going through enough. They could trash talk exes another time. 

Except there wouldn’t be another time. 

Richie told himself repeatedly as he went to his room that this was a one time deal. He would let Eddie spend the night because he had nowhere else to go, but come morning, they would go their separate ways. This wasn’t some divine intervention from fate putting them together because they were meant to be; this was Richie being raised to be a good person and do a good thing. Simple as that. 

That morning, Richie woke up painfully aware he wasn’t alone in his apartment. Normally he’d walk around in just his boxes and have breakfast or shower and hang out in the nude. He didn’t have any shows coming up or auditions to do. This was his New York time, his downtime so he could do anything he wanted and that included absolutely nothing. 

He dressed before going out. Seemed like the . . . the proper thing to do. Richie never thought of himself as a proper gentleman. He was just a guy who sometimes kept his mouth shut, though not often enough. 

When he walked out of his room and out into the open area, Richie half figured that Eddie would be gone by now. It was around ten, still early but for someone who came off as a push professional, it was probably late for the other male. 

Richie found that Eddie was both exactly and nothing like he expected. Nothing because he was so pint-sized and full of aggression. He was clean, incredibly clean, so much so that he was left without a single clue on how to handle it. He dressed nicely even if he was on his day off while Richie mostly just put on whatever fit. He felt embarrassed by myself for the first time ever. 

And everything because of . . . reasons.

Richie found that he was still there and he ignored the fluttering in his stomach when he saw him, counting it off as hunger. He averted his eyes when he realized he was shirtless, deciding that ogling at him wasn’t going to make things easier on either of them. 

Richie offered a simple ‘hey’ as he walked into the kitchen, going to toss a clean mug underneath the coffee machine so he could start his morning off right. 

“I Googled you,” Eddie replied, causing Richie to turned back to face him. 

Richie cocked his head, curious now. “Oh? And what did you find?” 

“I’ve heard of you before,” Eddie confessed. “My . . . well, she’s my ex now. Anyway, I tried to get her to watch one of your Netflix specials but, she wasn’t interested.” 

“My humor isn’t for everyone,” 

He had gotten better over time when he finally chose to let go of his former agent who insisted that they use other people's material for his own. Now that he spoke from the heart, he found that he could be more honest in his comedy. It wasn’t always very fun, but neither was life. Richie wanted to entertain but he wasn’t going to put on big red shoes and dance like a fucking clown. Reality is hard and sometimes life sucked. Why not laugh about it? 

“I don’t think you’re half bad,” Eddie admits with a half shrug. “Heard your little rant about the TIMER. Bold words for someone's current sporting one.”

Richie sighed deeply, his eyes casting downward to where the TIMER was settled on his wrist. EDWARD was bright and blue and unable to ignore. 

“Wasn’t my idea.” He confessed quietly. “Result of a drunken night out and the loss of a bet. Don’t compete against a TIMER employee, I guess.” 

“So what, you just . . . hate the idea of fate all together?”

Richie pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses, moving forward so he could flop down on the other end of the pullout. “Look. I don’t hate fate or anything like that, but I think the idea of belonging to just one person is pretty fucked up.” 

“So you don’t believe in monogamy?” 

“It’s not even that!” He relayed the story of the person he knew whose marriage was destroyed by the TIMER and how the kid had to watch their family be torn apart all because they wanted proof that you belong with a person. “A fucking name on your wrist shouldn’t tell you who you belong with. You should just know that shit,” 

“Something like that happened to a friend of mine,” Eddie admitted, moving to rest his chin on his bent knees. “She had been in love with one guy for so long and she wanted to prove that they were meant to be together. She got a TIMER and it was blank because the guy didn’t have one. Or so she thought. About a month later, her TIMER began counting down and she met someone else. She was bitter at first, you know because she spent so much time and effort loving someone else only to be told she is meant to be with this new guy but . . . you can’t deny your soulmate, right?” 

You could and Richie would if it was the last time he did. He wasn’t going to give in just because he had someone's name on his wrist. 

“They just had a baby,” Eddie added with a smile. “So. Happy ending there.” 

“Just seems like too much work for me,” Richie muttered. 

He had spent a good while not believing that he was meant to be with anybody. He was perfectly fine on his own and always had been. Sure, he had friends like Bill, but that was purely platonic. Last time Richie ever felt anything romantic for someone was back in high school and that blew up in his face. After that, he closed himself off because he didn’t want to be someone's other half. He didn’t want to be a boyfriend or a husband or a soulmate. He just wanted to crack some jokes, make some money, and be left alone. 

It seemed pretty simple to him. If only fate would allow him to have such small luxuries. 

“So what are you gonna do now?” He asked, deciding to make a bit of Smalltalk. “No home. No girl. You got a job right?” 

“For now,” Eddie mentioned, laughing awkwardly. “If I go in tomorrow and find out I’m getting canned, it will just be the cherry on top.”

“Office boy?” 

“Something like that. I’m a risk analysis.” 

Richie blinked, lifting his head up. “A what now?” 

“A risk analysis.” Eddie repeatedly. “I use statistics to see if businesses are making too big of a risk when it comes to buying or selling or . . . Richie?” 

Richie’s jaw went slack as he pretended to fall asleep, jolting awake only when Eddie repeated his name for a second time. “Sorry, sorry. Go on. Quick question: was that job invented before fun?” 

“Dumbass,” Eddie rolled his eyes, pushing up off the pullout so he could gather his clothing from the counter. Richie didn’t exactly stare at Eddie as he dressed, but he didn’t look away either. He just . . . sat there, watching casually as Eddie pulled on his polo and jeans. 

“So um, you didn’t tell me what you plan on doing?” 

“Don’t know.” He admitted, smoothing his hands down his shirt. “Probably see if there are any apartments for rent. I’ll see if I can put a cot in my office until then.” 

“You seriously won’t go to a hotel? Are you really the much of a germaphobe?” 

“Not a germaphobe. Just cautious.” Eddie answered, turning away then. 

Richie thought he’d get up and go. That he’d wish the guy good luck and then see if he could speak to his manager about getting an underground removal for the TIMER. There had been something that could be done without dropping all that cash on it.

Eddie walked away then, though not to the door as expected, but rather to the far wall across the kitchen. Richie had plenty of things hung up there. Awards and pictures with celebrities. The stuff of that kind. One thing caught Eddie’s attention and Richie pushed himself to stand up, going to shove the pullout back in before going to see what it was that Eddie was staring at. 

“Second edition, right?” He asked, staring at the comic book that Richie had framed. 

“Got it back when I was a kid.” He admitted proudly. “My two best friends bought it for me as a birthday gift. Fuck, I must have read it hundreds of times.” 

“I’ve never seen one up close before,” Eddie admitted, smiling brightly as he looked to Richie. “I have the first edition.” 

“Bullshit!” Richie argued. “There were only like . . . fucking seventy made. Trust me, I know. I’ve been searching for since I was fifteen.” 

“I can prove it to you. I have it in my office. My dad gave it to me before, well before he died.” Eddie admitted, shifting where he stood. “You um, you can see it, if you want. We can check it out. I should probably change anyway.” 

“Oh um. Sure.” Not like he had anything else to do. Seeing the first edition of Cult Classic comics would definitely be something worth his time and effort. “Let’s check it out.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly like he was surprised Richie was taking him up on the option. “Yeah? All right. Let’s go.” 

Grabbing his jacket and keys, Richie followed Eddie out, closing the door to his place as they left. 


	5. Chapter 5

Eddie’s office was less than a ten-minute walk from Richie’s apartment. He wasn’t counting or anything like that, but it was an easy shuffle down the street. If he was running, it would only be two and a half songs on his running playlist. If he was being lazy and enjoying the weather, it would take maybe five. Either way, it wasn’t long to get from one place to another. 

Offices ran Monday through Friday but Eddie was allowed entry with his keycard. He led Richie up the elevator, down the hall, and into his office where the boxes of his belongings were stacked neatly in the boxes that Myra had given him. 

“This is it?” Richie asked, checking them out from across the room. “Seven boxes. Your entire life is in seven medium-sized boxes from Amazon Prime?” 

“Well, most of my clothing was folded so it’s pretty compact,” Eddie excused, beginning to unpack them so he could find the small collection of comics he had brought with him from his childhood home. 

“Come on. You have to have more than this. You’re a grown man. My fucking little sister had more than this before she even turned ten!” 

“I guess I am a minimalist.” Eddie shrugged. “Besides, Myra likes to have a clean house. She didn’t want to fill it with useless garbage, you know? We didn’t have a lot of art or anything eye-catching. I had a few things, like my comic books from when I was a kid and other little nicknacks in my office but aside from that, she found the other shit to be an eyesore.” 

“This Myra sounds like a real sweetheart. God bless the bastard she ends up with.” Richie muttered, his eyes widening when he realized he said it out loud. “I mean . . . at least it is not you?” He offered, getting a glare from Eddie regardless. 

Finding a smaller box, Eddie placed it down onto his desk, which was surprisingly empty. No picture of Myra or really anything other than his nameplate. Edward Kaspbrak. Simple as that.

“Here,” Eddie said, holding up a comic book up in the air. 

His father had given it to him as a final birthday gift before he passed away. Despite being a very professional man, Franklin was a bit of a nerd and passed that trait onto his son. His mother wasn’t very pleased, always wanting him to spend his money on better things than comic books and action figures, but he was a good student and could spend his allowance on whatever he wanted. 

The comic was in one of those plastic protection sheets that made it harder for you to read the comic book but kept it from getting wrinkled or destroy. Richie took it carefully in his hands, gasping as he flipped it open. 

“I’ve never seen the first edition before. Only online.” He admitted softly. “I tried a couple of times back to purchase one, back when I started making real money, but the assholes on EBAY wanted a fucking arm and a leg.” 

“My mom wanted me to get rid of it, but I just couldn’t part with it, you know?” 

“God. It’s beautiful, man. Utterly gorgeous.” Richie sighed, flipping through the comic book so he could read it. 

Eddie moved to sit at his desk and go through the box that Myra put together. He knew about his clothing and work things, but this box specifically was made up of the little things he had almost forgotten about. 

His old inhaler that he kept for sentimental reasons. Photo albums from his childhood. An old paddle ball that he had won at the Maine fair the year he and Myra met. At the bottom of the box, he found something else. Something he didn’t expect to find. 

A sleek, black ring box. 

And inside was Myra’s engagement ring. 

Eddie didn’t know why he thought she’d want to keep it. They have broken up after all. Not like she could continue to wear it and pretend like they were still engaged like they were still getting married. All of that was over so of course, she’d want to give the ring back. 

“Christ that’s ugly,” Richie muttered. 

Eddie expected him to be speaking of something going on in the comic book since it was something of a supernatural storyline. But instead, those big eyes were locked on the item sitting in Eddie’s hand.

Myra had chosen her engagement ring so Eddie didn’t even have a say of it. Chocolate diamond in a vanilla gold setting. Two rows of chocolate and vanilla diamonds circled it,making it look larger than it was. It wouldn’t have been the ring Eddie would have chosen but that was fine. Whatever made Myra happy made Eddie happy. 

“Are you sure she didn’t break it off because you picked out a butt ugly ring?” 

“First of all, asshole. _She_ picked it out. And no. She dumped me because I have your _name_ on my fucking arm.” 

Richie shifted, obviously not expecting Eddie to snap at him. He ran his fingers through his hair, gesturing aimlessly. “Technically it’s on your wrist.” He responded. “Also, did you say she picked it out?” 

“Myra is very persistent. She knows what she wants. Who was I to argue?” 

“What a doting boyfriend,” Richie spoke, using a mocking tone as he took the ring to inspect in. Eddie moved up, going into the next few boxes so he could put a new outfit together. Excusing himself into the bathroom, he changed his clothes. He wished he could have taken a shower, only realizing now that his car was missing one. Eddie realized he’d just have to use the shower at his gym, something he downright refused to do when he first signed up. 

It was bad enough that the gym was covered in sweat and other possible germs, but he knew better than to just jump into a treadmill without washing it down with the antibacterial spray. 

When he came out fully dressed he found Richie sitting back in his desk, feet propped up and the chocolate diamond ring sitting on his hand. 

“Your ex wears the same size ring as a full-grown man. That’s hot, dude.” Richie teased. 

“Are you always this much of an asshole or is it just special treatment for me?” Eddie asked, tossing his dirty clothes into one of the boxes. 

“It’s half and half, to be honest,” Richie admitted, flexing his fingers as he looked at the ring on his hand. “Do I look gorgeous, Edward?” 

“You look ridiculous, Richard,” Eddie swore. “Now take that thing off.” 

Richie sighed, sitting up properly in the chair. “So what are you gonna do? Pawn it off?” 

“I didn’t get it that long go. I think I still have time to return it.” Eddie admitted, thinking back to which credit card he used. He only had five, since that was in his opinion, a good number to have to build good credit but not get too out of hand with the payments. 

“Huh. That should be a fun interaction.” Richie grumbled. He laughed awkwardly, spinning the chair around so he was facing away from Eddie. “I ugh, I always wondered what sales associates did if someone returned a ring like that. How do they deal with the sob stories?” 

“I don’t think I have a sob story,” Eddie mentioned. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but he couldn’t change Myra’s mind. Eventually, she would find someone else and she would happy. For now, all Eddie could do was focus on himself. “All right. Give it back.” Eddie said, holding his hand out for Richie to pass him the ring. 

Richie let out another awkward laugh, turning the chair back around slowly. “So um. Funny story!” Richie said, smiling overtly big. “I can’t get it off.” 

Eddie blinked, his head cocking as he watched him. “I’m sorry?” He muttered. 

“It’s uh, it’s stuck! See?” Richie pulled at the engagement ring, unable to remove it. He tried to twist it around but found that it was stuck. 

“Oh great. Wonderful! What the fuck are we supposed to do now?” 

“All right, calm down. I’m sure there’s something we can do.” Richie told him. “Well, just use like, lotion or lube.” 

“Lube? Why would I have lube?” 

“Some guys use it for a bit of extra . . . you know. It keeps things from squeaking.” 

“_What_?” Eddie shook his head, turning away. He went into his desk drawer and pulled out the Burts Bees hand lotion he kept and passed it over to him.

Richie took the bottle, squirting some into his hand. He lathered up, working it all along with his fingers and around the ring. He grunted as he tried to pull it off but found that it wouldn’t budge. “This is fucking ridiculous.” 

“Well, it’s a woman’s ring so.” 

“Woman’s ring that fit a grown man’s hand,” Richie argued. 

Eddie’s hands fell to his hips as he turned to face him. “It doesn’t fit you, asshole otherwise we wouldn’t have this issue!” 

“All right, calm your tits. Just fucking Google how to get a ring off your finger.” 

“Why did you put it on, to begin with?” 

“I wanted to feel like a pretty girl, Eddie.” 

“Fucking moron,” Eddie rolled his eyes, focusing on his phone. There were different ways to get rings off, though lotion was the best way and that wasn’t working. 

“Can’t we ring it to a jeweler? Surely they have different ways of handling this type of situation.” Richie mentioned. 

It wasn’t like they had much of a choice. The ring wasn’t coming off and he was sure that if they continued to ignore it then Richie’s finger would get more swollen and the blood flow would get cut off. It would be a complete and total nightmare that Eddie didn’t want to deal with. 

“Fine. Let’s just check it out.” Eddie checked out locations of non-sketchy jewelers and found one uptown. “We’ll take my car.” He suggested, leading him out to the lot. 

The walk was swift as they were in a hurry but Eddie found that he had little to no gas in his car. Normally Myra was the one who went out and got it because of she like a specific gas station and didn’t trust Eddie to go there on his own. Eddie, who knew his car well enough, didn’t need anything other than the specific type of gas and found going out of the way was a waste of time, but again. Arguing with Myra just wasn’t worth the time and effort. 

Eddie groaned, hitting his head on the steering wheel. 

“Relax, dude. We’ll just take the subway.” 

“I am _not_ taking the subway. They’re disgusting.” 

“A fucking Uber is going to cost like fifty bucks due to traffic and shit. So unless you wanna check out the gold dealer down the street, I suggest you get a metro card and follow me.” 

Eddie let out a groan but found that he didn’t have much of a say. He wanted the ring back and he wanted his life to go back to normal. The faster they could do all this, the faster that would happen. 

Locking his car up once more, he followed Richie out of the lot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some people really like chocolate diamonds, I just find them unattractive. I work in jewelry so I apologize for my (and Richie's) opinion.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering what Myra's ring looked like: 
> 
> https://66.media.tumblr.com/93b6daef8992acbe1fd5037c38adbf56/6dc0a1605f35d47e-8a/s640x960/b8ca007d066dde17f65d3266afd13b55776c36bb.png

Eddie wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t like the subway. Richie had to practically drag him down, watching as he grimaced and groaned at the smells and spills on the ground. Richie was used to it because he used it often enough. It was in New York City. Nothing here was clean or magical as they make it out to be on TV or in movies. He was used to it by now, though it was clear Eddie wasn’t. 

He groaned and whined, bitching the moment they hurried down the stairs. He swiped his own metro card to get him in and basically shoved him onto the subway the moment it pulled it. He wouldn’t touch anything. Not the seats, not the handlebars. Richie warned him that due to the speed that he’d want to hold onto at least something. It wasn’t until Eddie ended up jolting forward, falling right onto Richie’s lap did he decide to take a seat beside him.

“So,” Richie mumbled, deciding to make a bit of Smalltalk as they went through the stops. “Think you’ll miss her?” 

“Huh?” 

“Myra. Are you gonna miss her?” 

“Oh.” He muttered softly, looking down at his hands. “Sure I will. We were together for a year and a half.” 

“Did you love her?” 

Eddie was quiet for a moment, shrugging lazily. “I guess.” 

“You guess?” Richie repeated. “You were ready to marry someone you _guess_ you loved?” 

“Why does it matter? Not like I’m marrying her anymore,” 

Richie just shook his head. He never fucking understood people. It’s like they just settled for nothing. Well, not nothing, but they settled for the least amount of love and affection they could get just so they wouldn’t be alone in this world. All the while Richie had been alone his entire life excluding the few lovers that came and went because that was what he wanted. 

He preferred being on his own because he could handle that. The only person who could break his heart was himself and he would never do that. 

“Don’t talk to me about love unless you’ve felt it yourself,” Eddie said sharply. 

That set Richie off, far more than he thought it would. “Never said I haven’t,” Richie argued. 

“Oh? And where is that love now, Richie?” 

The curly-haired man didn’t respond. He just shook his head, looking the other way as the lights flickered around them. He didn’t need to go into his sad backstory. He didn’t want to pry into those feelings that lingered deep inside of him. It wasn’t worth the trouble or winning the argument. So they sat in silence, neither doing a single thing even as the place filled up more and more. 

When it was their turn to leave, Richie stood, tugging on Eddie’s sleeve to follow. He let Eddie lead the rest of the way, all the way down the avenues until they came upon the jewelry store. They explained the situation to the man behind the glass case, who seemed more amused by their predicament than sympathetic.

“It’s on pretty tightly. I think we’ll have to cut it off.” The jewelry mentioned with a sigh. 

“Come on man. Do I look like someone who can rock having only nine fingers?” Richie questioned. 

“He meant the ring, dumbass,” Eddie snapped. “Is there a way to repair it afterward? I was hoping to return it.” 

“Repair, yes though they won’t accept it back. That much I can promise you.” 

Eddie sighed deeply, rubbing his face with his hands. “Not like we have any other choice.” 

The jewelry waved them to follow him, bringing them into a small office in the back. He instructed Richie to sit down on a bench while he gathered the tools. Another customer came in and the man sighed. “I’ll be back. Here, this will calm your nerves.” 

He placed an old looking bottle of whiskey down before heading back to the front. Eddie sat beside Richie and both took a look at the bottle before Richie decided to go for it and took a swig. The taste was strong and hard, burning up his chest in an odd way. 

“That can’t be sanitary,” Eddie mentioned, but took the bottle when it was passed to him. They both sat there drinking, waiting for the jewelry to come back to them. He was taking his sweet ass time so he had to be making one hell of a sale. 

“I think I did love her,” Eddie admitted suddenly. “In my own way. She . . . she was very demanding. And she wanted me to be a certain way. She wanted me to be the man of her dreams, I guess. And I was fine with that. I was fine being her Ken doll, but . . . obviously, it didn’t work out.” 

“Being with someone just to keep from feeling lonely isn’t healthy, Eddie,” Richie mentioned to him. 

“I don’t think I was lonely. I was just . . . my mom was the same way. It was a strange comfort, I guess. It’s all I knew. Back in college, I used to go out and play the field and I hated it. I liked having someone call me and ask me about my day or tell me that what I am wearing is ridiculous. I liked having someone care, you know? I don’t know. I’m sure I sound pathetic.” 

“Not pathetic, dude. Just set in your ways.” Richie commented, taking another long swig from the bottle. He groaned, pulling his glasses off and tossing them onto the desk in front of him. “Awe fuck.” He had the strangest feeling to talk. To confess. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that the person he was talking to was Eddie — his soulmate, his other half. His _blahblahblah_. 

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to collect his thoughts before pouring his heart out via verbal diarrhea. 

“I was fourteen when I realized I was in love with my best friend.” He spoke suddenly. “Or at least what I thought was love. First love. Teenage love. Whatever. We grew up in a shitty town full of shitty people who treated anybody who was remotely different like trash. We did everything together, we had been best friends since we were kids, like one digit old. We had been through a lot together and . . . I don’t know. Puberty hit and as we got older I started realizing I only wanted their attention. I was an annoying fucking kid so you can imagine me as a teenager. I did everything I could to bother the fuck out of them just to get a reaction. An eye roll. A middle finger. Even a comeback sometimes. It didn’t last though.”

“What happened?” Eddie asked quietly. 

“Their dad found us. We weren’t doing anything, but it was the fucking eighties and AIDS was on the rise so seeing two boys sitting closely together . . . his dad forbade me to ever come back over. And shortly after that, he stopped speaking to me.” 

“Oh, Rich,”

“I wasn’t . . . I wasn’t mad at him, you know? His dad was religious and shit, constantly forcing him to be involved in the church or whatever. He was Jewish so temple. Anyway, I didn’t blame him for cutting me off because he didn’t have a choice, but . . . I saw his dad once. And I asked him if he could give him the gift I got him for his birthday. It was a pair of binoculars because the nerdy fucker liked to bird watch. His dad broke them right in front of me and said that he didn’t want his son having anything a faggot purchased. Made no fucking sense, if I can be completely honest, but he just went back to spitting the rest of his bullshit.” 

That shit stuck with Richie for the rest of his life. A constant reminder that being with another guy was wrong and he was sick and perverted for thinking about it. Richie hides away for so long after losing his best friend that when he finally left that ugly little town he was too stuck in his ways to change anything. He was angry at the world and at himself for allowing one man and a town full of assholes to turn him into such a cold hateful person. 

“I think . . . I think that’s why I always fucking hated the idea of these things,” He looked down at the TIMER on his wrist. “Because I knew what it would say. Who it would say. And I wouldn’t be able to hide or run or deny it.” 

He never expected it to say the name of his first love, but he knew it would be a guy whether he liked it or not. And he was right. Eddie was right next to him. Another man who just wanted to give this a try but here he was, pushing him away because it was all he knew. 

He had judged Eddie for being with someone he didn’t love because he was stuck in his old ways but the truth was Richie was no better off. 

“Have you ever spoken to him?” 

“Sort of.” He admitted, coughing to clear his throat. “After I made it big and shit, I got a message from him on Facebook. He congratulated me and shit. A lot of people back home tried to reach out for money and shit, but not him. Not Stan the Man. He just . . . wanted to be nice. I didn’t reply because what the fuck could I say? We were kids. Fucking sixteen years ago, you know? Anyway, he’s married now and he seems happy. I hope he’s happy.” 

“But are you happy, Richie?” Eddie asked quietly. 

He never got the chance to answer. The door swung open and they were no longer ago.

“All right. Shall we continue?” The jewelry asked, making his way back inside. 

Richie straighter up, ignoring the threat of tears in his eyes as he put his glasses back onto his face. The jewelry sat across from him and grabbed a pair of spark clippers from his desk. Richie held out his hand, laying it flat on the desk. In an act of kindness, Eddie took his other hand, holding it tightly as the jewelry got to work. 

“May feel a slight pinch.” The man spoke, cutting into the back of the ring easily. There was, in fact, a sharp pinch and a bit of blood off but the ring was off and he could feel his left-hand ring finger again. The jeweler offered a tissue and bandaid to Richie before lifting the ring and inspecting it. 

“Not the worst I’ve seen. I’ll buy it off you if you want.” He offered to Eddie. “There’s always someone looking for chocolate diamonds.” He mentioned casually. 

In the end, Richie got his finger back and Eddie was able to sell the ring for a bit more than he purchased it for. He admitted to Richie once they were out on the street that he felt bad for not telling the guy what he paid for it but Richie just watched him off. 

“His payment for my blood sacrifice,” He said, showing off his bandaged hand. 

“It’s not that bad,” Eddie argued, causing the other man to pout. 

“It hurt, Eduardo! I could barely feel circulation! I thought I was going to pass out or have a heart attack. And then I am finally freed but at the cost of bloodshed!” 

“You’re a brave soul, Richie. Would you like me to kiss it better?” 

Richie shifted, his eyes darting around them easily. No one was paying attention to them or even really focused on what was going on. “Not opposed.” He admitted. 

With a roll of his eyes, Eddie took Richie’s hand in his own, kissing the underside of his left-hand ring finger. He held onto his hand for a long moment, letting their fingers linger before gesturing to the TIMER. “You should have asked if he could remove that too.” 

For a slip second, Richie had forgotten he even had it. Eddie’s name spoke volumes as it rested against his wrist and while he knew it would be a fucking shit storm if anybody found out that Richie Tozier, the OG TIMER hater had one, he just couldn’t be worried about it right now. 

“A problem for another time,” He decided. “You hungry? I know a place . . . well, not here, but I think you survived one subway ride so why not another?” 

“I really need to start looking for apartments,” Eddie confessed to him. “I can only live inside my car and office for so long, you know?” 

“Right.” He muttered, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket. This was what he wanted. To wipe his hands with his soulmate and go back to how things had been in the beginning. Easy and stress-free. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around then,” He figured. 

“See you,” Eddie offered a small wave, letting their gaze last just a little bit longer before heading off in the opposite direction. 

Richie watched him walk for a good while, ignoring the tingling in his left arm before turning on his ankle and heading home as well. 


	7. Chapter 7

It was two weeks later that things finally started to settle down for Eddie. It took a bit of time and a lot of nights sleeping on a cot in his office, but eventually, Eddie found a place to stay. The lease was only for three months but that was fine for him. He’d use that time to find a place a little better suited for him. It was small and the bed he ordered wasn’t very comfortable. His closet was tiny and the kitchen was a disaster so he wouldn’t be cooking at home anytime soon, but he would make it work. 

It wasn’t the worst in the world though Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the constant attention he received. Not that he needed it, but having someone sore on you for years and then having a brand new person gives you the same amount of affection and attention, it left Eddie feeling a bit off. 

He’d be fine, he knew he would be. He didn’t need the smothering or the endless reminders that he was doing something wrong. He was on his own for a change and he could run his own life and make his own decisions.

One of the biggest came in the form of choosing the next client he took on. Very rarely did he have people walk in up off the street looking for guidance. The secretary told him that someone was waiting for him in his office, hoping they could help him out.

The moment he walked inside he knew who I was. It didn’t take much for him to recognize the same hair and body despite it being slouched down in a far too small chair. Eddie entered his office being as professional as possible as he went to sit at his desk. 

“Mr. Tozier? Edward Kaspbrak. Call me Eddie.” He requested, keeping his face straight as he sat across from the other man. “Just so you are aware, a risk analyst isn’t an advice columnist.”

“Oh I am well aware but I don’t think regular advice is gonna help me,” Richie admitted to him. “You see I did something dumb and now my career is on the line. I was hoping you could go through the statistics and tell me what I should do.”

“I see. Well, what’s the problem?”

Richie leaned forward then, adjusting himself and waving his hand around like he was pitching a new special. Eddie’s eyes automatically fell to the man’s wrist, which even after their time apart continued to carry his name. 

“I have this soulmate you know? And we’re not together and is fine — whatever. But I have a TIMER and if my audience finds out I have one, I am fairly certain I’ll be lit ablaze ale Blair Witch style.” 

“I think you mean Salem Witch but go on.” 

“Do I come clean or not?” 

“Why not have it removed?” Eddie inquirers. “Rich...if it’s a matter of money I can pay for it.” Eddie would write him a check right now and never look back. He didn’t mind his. In a strange way, he found comfort in it. Even if he and Richie weren’t a thing he liked knowing he belonged to somebody. And that somebody out there belonged to him.

When he walked away from Richie that day, he did it not for himself, but for Richie. It was obvious the other male had a lot going on and had an imaginary ring of fire he had to walk through before he could allow himself to even accept the fact that they were soulmates. He wanted to do the right thing and give him the time to process it all.

“That’s the thing though, Spaghetti man. Even if I remove it, I’ll still know. I still have that name inside my head. Why waste valuable cash when the reality is crystal clear?” 

“Right so...okay.”

Eddie ran the numbers in his head and pulled out his notebook to jot everything down. It wasn’t an ideal situation for him, not in the least. People would be pissed if he revealed that he had a TIMER though the story would definitely be worth it. Very on-brand for Mr. Tozier who told jokes all the time about getting drunk. 

“Regardless of what you do if you plan on keeping it I suggest you write some good jokes on the matter,” Eddie concluded. “You’re known for shitting on the trend so to just roll up with a TIMER is going to be problematic.” 

“I know. That’s why, well I came up with a plan on my own so I was hoping you could help me with it. I figured...if I could at least show off the person who I am supposed to be with, that might soften the blow a little.”

“Show them off?” Eddie repeated.

“I don’t want to be the TIMER poster boy. I know people are gonna be pissed either way. And part of me still finds the whole thing to be kind of pathetic, letting fate lead the way but . . . can’t exactly deny it, right?”

“Right.” 

“So. What do you say?” Richie asked, looking more hopeful than he had been when he first entered the office. “Wanna give your other half a chance?”

Every part of Eddie screamed for him to say yes. He didn’t know if it was his own self trying to get back to something familiar or the fucking universe wanting to realign itself. Either way, it just felt right. 

“Richie...tell me the truth.” Eddie sighed, standing from his desk. “You’re only doing this because you want to get your hands on my first edition Cult Classic comic book.”

Richie laughed shortly, his eyes squishing behind his glasses. “I can’t deny it any longer, Eds. Honestly. I need that first edition in my life,” 

“It’s back at home. My new home. I’m renting a place.” It wasn’t perfect but he’d deal. 

Richie bobbed on the soles of his feet, his hands pushing into his pockets. “Look. I’m not gonna get all romantic and preach my undying love. The truth is we barely know each other. But the small-time we spent together was pretty stellar if you ask me.” 

“Stellar?” 

“I grew up in the eighties and nineties, what do you want from me?” 

Silence fell over them both again. It was odd seeing this man who was basically a stranger to him, and yet he had his name across his wrist. They were soulmates, whether they accepted it or not. 

“I just don’t get it. You were so against this before. You literally ran away from me once, Richie. Why are you suddenly on board with this?” 

Richie looked like he was at a loss of words. If it had been Eddie he would have prepared a speech and had it written out. He would have thought it over sixty times before even opening his mouth. Eddie wondered if Richie even thought about what to say before coming over.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” Richie admitted. “And I know that sounds pathetic but this isn’t me settling for some guy on Tinder. I look at my fucking wrist and I see your name and I keep asking myself why am I holding off from something that could be pretty awesome.” 

“Don’t you mean _stellar_?” 

“You’re as annoying as you are adorable so take that as you want,” Richie replied. “I wanna give it a go, all right? Call me out on all my bullshit if you want. I’ll take it with stride.” 

Eddie shrugged, leaning back in his chair slowly.

“So. What do you say? Wanna give this whole “trusting fate” thing a shot?”

Eddie thought about it. They could easily go back to how things were before Richie walked into his office. They could pretend like it never really mattered and they’d just become a strange distant memory for each other.

But Eddie wanted things to be different. He wanted to be brave and take chances, take risks. And what was a bigger risk than Richie Tozier?

“What do we have to lose?” He offered with a smirk. 

Richie smiled back, moving closer to him then. “What do we have to lose, indeed.” 

He thought about kissing him then but decided against it. They had time for that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this. I would definitely like to continue and probably will at some point, though for now, it's complete.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on "TIMER", a film that can be found on Netflix. Please check it out, it's a really good film!


End file.
